


The White Rose and the Knight (or, how fairytales are butchered)

by penscritch



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Fairy Tales & Related Fandoms, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: AU, Everybody is happy and sane except Jenova and Hojo, F/M, Fairy Books of Andrew Lang, The Black Thief and Knight of the Glen, appropriating fairytales for my own nefarious purposes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-03
Updated: 2014-10-03
Packaged: 2018-02-19 18:30:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2398505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penscritch/pseuds/penscritch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What do you get when you shove three brothers into a tower, have a mad stepmother, and team up with a failed materia thief on the way to steal a magical Steed? Let's not forget about the Knight who is said to toss people into furnaces and burn them alive.</p><p>Yeah. This is going to be great.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The White Rose and the Knight (or, how fairytales are butchered)

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I got bored in the middle of reading a compilation of ALL of Andrew Lang’s fairytale books, and happened upon this one that I thought would be made even more interesting if I put FFVII characters into it. Yeah, that’s kind of a weird impulse to have, but what can I say. (the tale I chose is “The Black Thief and Knight of the Glen.” You can see where this is going, right?)
> 
> P.S. I don't own anything except my own writing (gotta put a disclaimer somewhere). Also, only very briefly self-betaed, so let me know if you see a grammar boo-boo I need to fix. Falling asleep while I’m posting this. Zzzzzzz~

Once upon a time in a kingdom far to the north called Midgar, a great King and Queen had three sons. Now, the Queen was much beloved so all the people mourned when she took sick and eventually came to death’s door. When she knew she would soon expire, she called the King to her side and bade him listen to her words and heed them: that she would not object to his marrying another woman after her death (for he was still a strapping young man), but he should build a tower on an island in the middle of the sea and keep their three sons there until they came of age. Apart from this, they were to be taught everything a prince should know – the arts of war, the machinations of the court, and the practical wisdom that is so lacking in many a hot-headed young man’s head.

It seemed a bit strange to the King, but he supposed it was all in the name of keeping their sons safe until one of them at least could inherit the throne. Scarcely had he promised her to do so, she took her last breath and embarked on that final journey that we all must take one day. The funeral lasted for seven days, so great was the grief of everyone who had known and loved the Queen. Sad and widowed, the King did as he promised the Queen and shut up his sons in the tower. Sometime later upon the suggestions of his councilors and the randiness of his own loins, he took a new wife.

Meanwhile, his three sons excelled in all of the princely arts as they grew to manhood on that lonely island tower in the middle of the sea. The eldest, Sephiroth, had the blood of kings running in his veins and showed it – he excelled in rule of men and led his brothers in every way. The second, Zack, was of a particularly friendly disposition and could cajole and beguile the most hard-hearted being into amity. The youngest, Cloud, was rather shy and did not speak when he could very well be silent. This was not dissimilar to Sephiroth’s temperament but unlike Sephiroth, his reticence came in a less intimidating brand. Out of all the brothers, he perhaps had the largest share of that natural practicality that is so often the saving grace of an aspiring hero-to-be (though he did not know it). It also helped that he had a good amount of luck, too.

Now this new Queen, this fair Jenova of foreign lands, bore the King another son for whom she had the highest aspiration of setting comfortably on the throne. She felt quite secure in this aspiration, for she did not know of the King’s other three sons begotten by the previous Queen (Jenova was not exactly the most intelligent of women, for all that she had the cruelty of three of them), until one of her subjects made the grave mistake of telling her about this fact and getting his own head cut off for his pains.

Jenova schemed and schemed and hatched a most devious plot. She made all the show of a slighted, but still loving wife to the King and persuaded him to let her be introduced to the three sons at their coming-of-age banquet. Seeing no reason to refuse his comely wife clad enticingly in a lace teddy he’d love to take off rather than continue the conversation, he agreed immediately.

The night of the banquet was filled with revelry and glee, but filled with greater glee was the black heart of Queen Jenova. Prettily, she invited all three to a game of cards – whosoever won must be put at the command of the other. Seeing no way to refuse, all three sons accepted the game. The eldest, Sephiroth, was a man strategy and patience and not entirely stupid. He knew that the Queen had an agenda and that she was cheating in some manner but he could not say how or why, and lost. The second, Zack, had a shrewd understanding of the inner workings of a human mind and knew just as well as the eldest that the Queen was not all she appeared, but he too lost his game.

The third prince, Cloud, watched both games avidly and noted that Jenova had a habit of sneaking a hand or two into her sleeve, mostly likely to pull out extra cards. When Jenova challenged him to a game, he merely shrugged and sat down, making sure beforehand to ready his own pack of cards that he had secretly borrowed from an obliging bartender at the banquet. The game grew fierce – Jenova scowled and slapped down cards viciously, no longer caring for discretion in the poker game by presenting Royal Flushes – but Cloud had a much better advantage than Jenova on two points. Firstly, he and his brothers had had ample practice in cheating with cards when they were bored and had nothing else to do in the tower. Secondly, his two brothers had caught on to what he was doing and were aiding him accordingly: Sephiroth procured a heavy goblet of wine and Zack made a show of presenting it to the winning Queen, but oh so accidentally spilling it onto her sleeves and her dress.

“Very deeply sorry and apologetic for this, Ma!” Zack said brightly, mopping rather roughly at her. It was entirely possible he also felt her up a little.

“Apology accepted,” Jenova replied, in a voice as frosty and distant as the Nibel mountain peaks in midwinter.

All of Jenova’s cheat cards were obviously soaked in this mishap so she could only rely on the natural cards in the game. Cloud, with his extra pack of cards and skill borne from years of playing with his brothers, triumphed with a Royal Straight Flush.

The crowd gathered for the banquet was very pleased with this stimulating turn of events and applauded loudly, falling silent to hear the Queen’s command for the other two brothers. They expected to hear something just as exciting and seemingly pleasant as the three games engaged by the Queen and the three brothers, but they were to be proved wrong.

“Bring me the Knight of the Glen’s wild Steed of Bells, or I will have your heads!”

Well. Let it not be said that Jenova did not get straight to the point. For all that the Princes did not show it, they knew what an impossible task they were asked – the Knight of the Glen was said to be a fearsome man dwelling in the darksome, wild Nibelheim mountain forests to the northwest of Midgar where monsters strange and fierce dwelt. His Steed was coveted for its magical abilities – a large contraption built of metal and fire and shined to a silver polish, it was said to be nigh indestructible and capable of flying faster than the swiftest chocobo could run. Additionally, it was whispered that anyone who attempted to steal his Steed of Bells (which was hung with hundreds of little tinkling silver bells so that any thief who attempted to make off with it would alert the Knight) was shortly thrown into a great hot furnace and burned alive.

Cloud, who possessed courage as well as heart, decided his counter-command would be for the Queen to allow him to travel and aid his two brothers in their quest. Relieved at the boy’s stupidity, Jenova gladly acquiesced. That would get rid of them like three birds with one stone, as the saying goes.

Heartily grateful for their youngest brother’s support even as they were concerned for his safety, his two elder brothers only harangued him briefly before they embraced him, admitting their thankfulness. The three were inseparable and they were convinced that so long as they were together, no task would be impossible for them.

Not one hour upon the road, they encountered a strangely dressed young woman in a moogle costume who attempted to ransom them for materia. Being yet unused to being waylaid by highwaymen (or women) since they were but newly freed from the tower, they did not entirely understand the gestures of the thief.

“I’m the White Rose of Wutai, thief and ninja extraordinaire!” she declared, waving her shuriken pointedly. “Gimmee all your materia, or I’ll chop off your balls!”

“Sheesh, why are threatening us over just _materia_?” asked Zack, incredulous. “Can’t you just go adventuring for some? Or, you know, go to a shop and buy them?”

She stared at him like he was some kind of idiot savant, “ _Just materia?!_ Where the hell did _you_ come from?”

“We were shut up in a tower for twenty years, and now we’re on a quest for our stepmother,” said Cloud. “She wants us to get the Steed of Bells from the Knight of the Glen.”

“… man, are you guys fucked.”

Supposing their situation couldn’t get any worse, they sat down for brunch and poured out their story to the White Rose. She chewed her way through five sandwiches and a pastry before they finished the tale, but she became gratifyingly angry in their defense.

“What a mean old slag-faced bitch! Let’s take her down, boys; let this Thiefmaster Yu—I mean, White Rose take care of you so you can go stick it in her face!”

Upon the White Rose joining their party, the amount of conversations increased. Much of it was not particularly interesting to the princes, but it was worth the extra manpower for their quest. For instance, the conversation that occurred when she noticed Sephiroth’s sword:

“Smokin’ hell,” whistled the White Rose, ducking around to look at the long blade strapped to Sephiroth’s back, “that’s one _damn_ fine Wutaian blade you’ve got there.”

Eyes narrowed speculatively, Sephiroth allowed, “Its name is Masamune.”

Whirling around, the thief stared at him. “ _You have the friggin’ Masamune!?”_

Sephiroth’s silence spoke for itself.

After that, the White Rose appeared to be a little more grudgingly respectful. She snuck glances at the sword every now and then as she chattered beside them but appeared to have no interest in stealing it, which relieved Sephiroth. It still didn’t stop him from sleeping lightly when they camped for the night, in case she decided to change her mind.

He needn’t have worried, because the White Rose slept through the night without moving from her tent. In the morning, she emerged with a somewhat rumpled-looking Moogle costume and was visibly cranky as she pulled out a small copper kettle and set the water to boil. She only regained her customary cheer after she inhaled a mugful or two of tea, which was when Cloud and Zack finally stumbled from their tents, rubbing their eyes. About four hours’ travel and some minor squabbles later, they arrived at the fortress wall surrounding the facility where the Steed of Bells was kept.

“Wow,” whistled Zack, staring up at over fifty feet of solid stone.

“…” said Sephiroth. He was too busy calculating the length of cord they’d need to scale the damn thing. Deeper inside, he was happily pondering how beautifully defensible the wall was; if he became King, he really wanted a set of walls like that around the castle. Or better yet, around strategic locations in the city in case of invasions.

“How are we going to get up there?” Cloud asked practically.

Lowering her telescope, Yuffie grinned. It was the manic grin of a master thief about to grab the most expensive painting in the museum.

“Why, we’re going to climb it of course!”

Out of all the ordeals so far, it could be said that the Princes found this the easiest. Being boys, they did not adhere as strictly to their father’s instructions as they should. They snuck out of the tower onto the larger space of the island whenever possible, often by means of carefully tied bedclothes lowered in a long rope down to the ground. Hauling themselves up the wall was not very much different from their boyhood escapades from the tower. When they were all over the wall, leaning against the parapets and breathing heavily with the satisfaction of a job well done, they got started on the next part of their plan. As the thief noted, there were certain problems they’d need to consider before going ahead.

“Weeeell,” she said, “it’s possible we can go in and just nab the thing. Gas the guards with this niftly Snoozalizer I have, and they go nighty-night. Nonlethal solution to our problems and a straight line to the goal. But we don’t have a one-hundred percent chance of success. They always have ground patrols coming around the perimeter regularly, but most of them should be at lunch now. Lemmee double check with the telescope.”

As the thief predicted, there were two regular patrols of two to three men walking around the large metal storage facility. They looked bored, but the worn steel of their guns indicated that these were men with real combat experience who would be ready to spring into a fight at a moment’s notice.

“Weird, there should be more people.”  
“More?” queried Sephiroth.

“Yeah, there’s usually way more. Maybe four patrols in random patterns, plus guards at the towers,” she pointed to the metal watchtowers set at intervals along the wall they were sitting on, “but right now I only see the patrol guys. No one’s manning the towers.”

Sephiroth would have chosen to stand back and discuss other options with the thief, suspecting the trap lying in wait for them that she seemed to believe as well, but Zack had already slid down the wall and gassed the patrols into unconsciousness. He waved up at them from the ground.

“Get a move on, slowpokes!”

As Sephiroth and Cloud reluctantly climbed down, the White Rose took a moment to breathe a short prayer.

“Leviathan preserve me,” she muttered under her breath. She hurriedly pulled her bulky white hood over her head and patted her face to make sure that her pale facemask was in place before shimmying down to the others. “Gawd, this isn’t going to go well.”

Indeed it did not go well. Upon entering the empty hangar and discovering the massive metal airship enclosed within which was _not_ hung with bells, followed by a minute or two of the appropriate awe the creation engendered, they encountered rapid gunfire from the direction of the now closed doors.

“Shit!” yelled Zack, propping up the wide blade of his Buster Sword and hiding behind it, wincing as the bullets _clanged_ against the metal. Sephiroth did not have the same advantage and had to flick the much narrower blade of his sword against every bullet he encountered to avoid getting hit.

Seeing his brother’s dilemma, Zack couldn’t help laughing. “Pffft, who’s overcompensating now, Seph!”

“ _Quiet_ ,” snarled Sephiroth, who was of half a mind to slice up and feed his irreverent younger brother to the fishes. This was no time to be making ‘whose is larger’ jokes.

Cloud’s First Tsurugi blade was a variation on Zack’s beloved Buster Sword, so it had a similar width and afforded him the same kind of protection that Zack had, but better. Since it was made from a combination of six swords, Cloud could and did pull out a second sword from the main fusion to prop in front of him so he formed a metal wall. Zack saw his youngest brother’s ingenious creation and yelped, “Cloud, you cheater!”

Cloud’s indignant frown was lost in the melee as a dark red blur jumped over the crates that made their makeshift barricade and charged at them, continuing to shoot.

Zack’s heartfelt cursing was lost as he had to pull his sword out of the ground and actually use it the way Sephiroth did to block the bullets.

“Motherfucking goddamn shitty bastard!” Zack stumbled back, surprised and annoyed by the bullet that had just clipped his forehead, leaving a smudge of red that immediately began to drip blood into an eye. He hefted his blade up, eyes narrowed. “I’ll get you for that!”

Just as the red blur, which had redefined itself into an intimidating face with intense red eyes, was about to get up close and personal with Zack’s internal organs, the most ear-piercingly welcome sound in the world screeched into the din.

**“HEYYYYYYYYY!”**

Everybody stopped as the ninja in the moogle outfit flipped off the railings on the walkways near the ceiling and landed neatly on the concrete floor.

“Gawd, why can’t you guys just stop fighting and _talk_ it out. Stupid men,” she huffed, crossing her arms and glaring at all of them. It took a moment for the three brothers to adjust to her artificially lowered voice. Why she would have to conceal her natural voice right now, they didn’t know. “I’ll start: I’m the White Rose of Wutai, best thief in the world.” She flapped a hand at them when they didn’t react. “Introductions. Now.”

The strange man who was shooting at them lowered his gun. Now that they weren’t fighting and it was easier to get a look at him, he was quite possibly the scariest looking person Zack had ever encountered (never mind he hadn’t met all that many people since he’d left the tower with his brothers; Zack was convinced this guy would remain forever in his list of Top Ten Most Intimidating) From the ragged, almost living way that the man’s crimson cloak flared when he turned to the startlingly inhuman red eyes the man had and the large triple-barreled revolver he held, this guy belonged in a horror movie more than anywhere in the real world.

In a deep, emotionless voice, “Vincent Valentine. Knight of the Glen.”

Blinking once before he recovered himself, Sephiroth responded, “Sephiroth, First Prince of Midgar.”

“Zack, Second Prince of Midgar.”

“Cloud, Third Prince of Midgar.” Softly but firmly, he said, “We’re here for the Steed of Bells.”

“Cloud!” Zack turned to his brother, who looked him in the eye unapologetically.

“It’s not like he can’t guess why we’re here.”

Fortunately, Vincent seemed to appreciate the honesty because he didn’t go for his gun. “For what purpose?”

“Eheheh,” scratching the back of her neck, the White Rose plopped down on a nearby crate as everyone’s eyes looked towards her. “That’s… kinda a long story.”

It was. With frequent interjections by the Princes, the young woman spun a story about innocence and brotherhood and trying to stay alive despite an evil stepmother. The Knight’s eyes flickered every now and then to their faces throughout the recitation as though to confirm the authenticity of the individuals, but beyond that he didn’t speak. Despite that, Cloud had the optimistic feeling that he believed them.

Growing ever more enthusiastic in her storytelling, the White Rose did not notice that she forgot to deepen her voice. She did not see that the eyes of the Knight of the Glen that fixed on her change from suspicion to a kind of amused recognition, tendered with something like softness. The Princes did not fail to notice, and they exchanged wary glances as the tale the White Rose told wound to a close.

“… so then we went over the wall with a _whoosh_! My ninja skills are like the godliest thing, I swear one patrol guy just fell over before we gassed him because I was just that awesome. Then we came in here and I totally kicked all your asses.”

“Very impressive, Yuffie.”

“Heheh that’s right, bow before the Great Nin–“

The White Rose (or Yuffie, as it appeared her name was) stopped, her eyes widening. She gingerly turned around from her dramatic posing to look at the slight smirk on the face of the Knight of the Glen.

“Um…”

The Knight merely arched an eyebrow, waiting.

“Ohmygawd, I can totally explain?”

“…”

“I left you a note!”

“You mean the note that only said, ‘I’m sorry for pushing where I’m not wanted. Don’t worry, I’m leaving so you won’t have to see me again. Thanks for everything’?”

The young lady growled and irritably yanked down her hood and facemask, revealing a pretty heart-shaped face that somehow managed to make even her indignation cute.

“Well, what was I supposed to say? I saw the letters and photos you have of your girlfriend!”

“Girlfriend?”

“Don’t play dumb!” She clenched her fists, shaking with emotion or stress, Cloud couldn’t tell, “Do I have to say her name?! I’m talking about Lucrecia!”

“Lucrecia was my ex-fiancée,” Vincent said.

“Oh.”

Yuffie looked very much engrossed at staring at her feet after that, shuffling her boots. She looked sad, which was such an alien expression on her face (even covered as it was for most of the journey) that Cloud felt concerned. A glance at Zack showed that he was equally worried, and Sephiroth was frowning. Surely the man knew that she was worried that he still carried an undiminished affection for his once-betrothed?

Fortunately, Vincent seemed to perceive that Yuffie had taken his words the wrong way. “I assure you, that affection is ended. It is true that I loved her once, but you are the one I love now.”

He moved silently in front of her, taking one of her clenched hands and curling his larger one around it. His other hand cupped her cheek as he tilted her downcast face up towards his. Vincent’s voice was quiet when he spoke.

“The question is not whether or not I will have you. You know at least some of the burdens I carry, know how long I will have to bear them to even begin to atone. I fear I am not worthy of you, but I cannot help the hoping or the wanting any more than I can help loving you.

“Will you have me?”

She was silent. It was clear the moment when he began to stop hoping, to withdraw into himself, but then she smiled. It was a strange smile to see on a face more used to wide grins and mischievous smirks, more so because it was fond and gentle and loving. Forgiving.

Seeing that smile, there was no wonder he had fallen in love with her.

“Of course I’ll have you, Vincent. Who’ll put up with your moping otherwise?” she laughed. He turned his face into her neck and breathed as though he’d never breathe again, holding her tightly to him. His relief was as palpable as his happiness.

The three Princes couldn’t help feeling uncomfortable in the sheer intimacy of the act, for all that they only embraced. Sephiroth cleared his throat, and they pulled apart to face him.

“You may have the Steed of Bells,” Vincent said, “But I doubt you can pilot it. Its engineer and pilot is a man named Cid Highwind, who built it and named it for his wife Shera. I will call him and arrange for your travel back to Nibelheim to fulfill your quest.”

“I’ve been wondering,” Zack scratched his head, “why’s it called the Steed of Bells?”

“Oh, that stupid name,” scoffed Yuffie. Her hand was still entwined in Vincent’s. “Its real name is the Shera, as Vince told you. The ‘Steed of Bells’ bit caught on because there were a bunch of older engineers’ kids who broke in and caused the Shera’s alarm to go off. The alarm sounds like bells – great honking foghorns – and scared the bejeezus out of them. They made up some story about a Knight of the Glen and a Steed so they’d sound less stupid to the younger kids.”

The three brothers thought about the wisdom of this little anecdote.

“Kids,” shrugged Cloud, smiling.

“Like you were any better, kiddo,” teased Zack, giving a protesting Cloud a noogie.

“Zack, stop making your brother’s hair worse,” deadpanned Sephiroth.

“I hate you both,” sulked Cloud. His hair looked like he’d been through a drying machine and thunderstorm.

Snickering, Zack turned to Yuffie. “I’ve got another question. You’re actually pretty cute, so why didja have to hide your face?”

“Because Vince has the second best intelligence network after mine! I didn’t want him to find me!” she wailed, half embarrassed at her failure to carry through the deception and half from Zack’s compliment. She was rather boyish and it was clear that she was not used to receiving praises of any kind about her physical appearance.

Zack, who was something of a flirt, would have continued to tease her had not Vincent leveled a very flat look at him. It wasn’t quite a glare, but it very clearly stated, ‘She is _mine_ , and if you do not stop interacting with her so familiarly, I will shoot you in the kneecaps.’

Wisely, Zack shut up.

Vincent pulled out a PHS from his cloak and dialed, eyes still on Zack. “Cid. Can you transport three people in the Shera to the Midgar royal palace today?” A burst of noise on the other end. “Thank you.” He clicked the phone shut and stowed it away.

“He’s on his way.”

“Thanks,” said Cloud. Sephiroth and Zack nodded their agreement.

In half an hour, the doors to the hangar were pushed open, and a rough-looking man with blond hair and a cigarette strode inside. He puffed furiously, and his gaze swept across the collection of figures.

“Hey Valentine. Hullo brat.” He ignored the rude finger Yuffie shoved in his direction. “Huh, so these’re the cargo, eh?”

“Yes. The three Princes of Midgar. Their stepmother holds a grudge. You only need to prove that the ‘Steed’ exists.”

Cid grumbled, “Those fuckers misnamin’ my Shera. All right, I’m gonna go set them straight. You boys hop on when you’re ready.” He walked over to a straggling member of the pre-flight check-up crew, haranguing him.

Sephiroth, Zack, and Cloud stood there for a while, unsure of what to say. It almost felt like they’d never see their friends again. Yuffie grinned, guessing at the reason for their hesitance.

“Go on ahead, Chocobo-hair,” Yuffie said cheekily, “Get on the road! Vince and I are going to get some stuff settled first really quick, then we’ll follow right along after you. Cid!” she hollered, waving at the pilot smoking by the ship, “Go slow and give them the scenic route, ‘kay?”

He gave a jaunty wave, “Got it, brat!”

With glad hearts, the three brothers ascended the airship and departed for Midgar. The brothers were very appreciative of the scenic route, which pleased Cid. He liked all kinds of compliments to his airship, and grew warmer towards them as they expressed unfeigned interest in the airship and its capabilities. Zack wandered away soon, drawn more to the expansive landscape stretched out below the airship while Sephiroth and Cloud stayed behind in the cockpit to talk with Cid in further detail about the mechanics of the ship.

Too soon, the ship landed amidst general awe and the gawking of the people in the large stretch of lawn near the royal garden’s center. They were taken right away to the King and Queen by the tide of well-wishers, swept straight into the Great Hall and deposited in front of the thrones. Still smiling and laughing, joyful in their victory, they expected to receive their father’s welcome with the utmost pleasure.

However, Jenova of the twisted words had spun a secret lie in the mind of the King. She had through secret arts seen as far as the meeting in the forest with Yuffie and informed the King that it looked like his sons would steal the Steed. As the King was at heart a righteous man, his malcontent with what his sons might do grew within him. He began believing them unlikely to commit such an act, then began believing them heartily enjoying it. As mentioned before, the King was a righteous man – he was not capable of thinking in shades of gray. To him, stealing was always wrong. Even were his own long-deceased mother to suddenly come alive and steal a crust of bread from him for want of food, he would have her punished. It made him very susceptible to the kind of manipulation that Jenova favored.

So it was that the King nursed a secret darkness in his heart, and fell prey to Jenova’s puppet-strings. His sons before him, Jenova said in a deceptively sweet voice, “But my King, would it not be shameful for our kingdom if it is known that your heir, which you will choose from one of these three, will be known as a thief across the realms?”

The King looked displeased, “I won’t have it be said that any heir of mine is a thief.”

His sons could not believe their ears, but they marked well the sly and cunning look of Queen Jenova who stood close by whispering poison into his ears. Their moment of triumph evaporated into despair.

Just as it appeared all hope was lost, the herald at the doors to the main hall cried, “Announcing King Vincent of Nibelheim and Princess Yuffie of Wutai!”

Clad in formal clothes, it was hard to recognize the silent plainspoken man they had met in the mansion much less the excitable thief they had traveled with. The dark hues Vincent wore did not change, but the fabric was clearly far finer and the robes cut elegantly in clean lines as it draped down his figure. It lent him a noble air that almost masked his usual aura of intimidation. Yuffie similarly wore robes, but hers were layered in light pastel shades and slightly transparent. The silvery white over-robe over the blue-gray of the inner robes clinched over the solid color of her inner shirt, which was a deep green tinged with aqua and bound tightly above her breasts in a straight line. When she moved, she looked like something that had just risen out of the sea trailing water and shimmering light.

The crowd murmured as they moved to let them through and fell silent when they stood before the thrones and bowed briefly.

“Greetings from the King of Nibelheim to the King of Midgar,” spoke Vincent, “I hope you will not take offense at my unexpected arrival, but I come on a matter of grave importance.”

Curious despite himself, the King asked, “Why, what matter is that?”

“That of your three sons, the three princes of the kingdom.” Raising a hand to stop his outcry, Vincent continued, “I have recently been informed of what has been said against them, and I am here to refute it. They have honorably attended themselves in my presence, for which I made a loan of the ship to them.”

“I can also affirm that they have conducted themselves as befits princes of the realm,” added Yuffie, an unusual gravitas to her speech. It was shocking to hear in someone so inclined towards open, light-hearted freedom as the three brothers had known, but her status as a princess did much to explain why she would have known how to conduct herself for matters of state such as now. “They kindly accosted me on my journey to Nibelheim to see King Vincent, protecting me from all manners of dangers. They never left my side until I was safely delivered to my betrothed.” She smiled sweetly at Vincent, who held an answering softness in his eyes.

“Why, congratulations on your upcoming nuptials!” stammered the King, after a surprised pause, “and thank you very much for the timely news. We are very grateful for your praises of our sons’ accomplishments and will rescind our earlier judgment.” He did not see the angry eyes of his Queen.

You must remember that the Queen Jenova had been plotting for years to not only take the throne beside the King as the Queen of Midgar, but also to place her darling son Hojo where the King would sit. This foiling of her purposes was too much for her. She stood suddenly, glaring with all the evil hate and madness that she concealed from the King and hissed, “Well, _I_ am not content. Come to me, my son,” she beckoned to Hojo, who likewise dropped his act to smirk and begin to weave dark magics, “Die!”

The truth was that Jenova was a Black Enchantress, the evilest of that name for all that she was born a Princess. Her son Hojo had taken after in her cruel and insidious spellcraft. She had hoped to establish her own Dark Kingdom by taking over Midgar, but her failure to take it by manipulation meant that she would take it by force. Soon the Grand Hall was flooded with waves of pulsating darkness. Courtiers screamed and fled for the exits, some unlucky fellows swallowed by the dark magic and divested of their lives. The three Princes, who had not had the chance to change their travel-worn clothes or divest their weapons, leapt immediately into battle. Vincent and Yuffie pulled their respective weapons from a hidden magical space where they had hidden them and also dived into the fight. It took a very long time, but eventually they wore down Jenova enough that the three brothers could stab her in the heart, neck, and head while Vincent shot Hojo in the middle of the forehead. Yuffie’s shuriken stabbed through Hojo’s heart from the back with such force that the tip emerged from the front of the chest, gleaming wetly with blood.

It was a major triumph for the Midgar kingdom and the world that this evil had been killed – Jenova was long-lived and had wrecked many a kingdom and empire in the past before surfacing in Midgar under a new appearance – but not without great loss. For all that the King had been somewhat hot-tempered and easily fooled by Jenova, he was generally a good ruler and well-loved. His life had been lost at the beginning of the fight, when Jenova’s magic tore across the Hall and the throne in which he sat beside her. Nothing was left of him but a shrunken corpse.

However, all mourning must come to an end and give way to joy. For after the funeral, King Sephiroth sat on the throne and ruled Midgar with a steady and much more discerning hand than his father had. His brothers Cloud and Zack never left his side and provided him with wise advice in areas which he lacked greater knowledge (such as perhaps dealing with diplomats nicely; Sephiroth could be as blunt as Cloud when the mood came upon him). The marriage of King Vincent of Nibelheim to Princess Yuffie of Wutai also meant that the strong friendship they had with the rulers translated into a strong political relationship. With the union of Nibelheim and Wutai as one, Midgar and her ally were the largest powers on the continent. They were able to keep kingdoms from other continents from attacking theirs by their might, and both kingdoms entered into a period of unprecedented prosperity. Why, they may still be living there now in that blessed, faraway place, ruling wisely and well.

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo, I messed around with the original fairytale a bit so it would fit better with the personalities of these FFVII characters. But it’s in a good cause! Also, I imagine Vincent and Yuffie’s formal clothes to be styled more after ancient Chinese clothes ‘cause they look cooler. (also wayyyy easier to move in if you wanna fight, cough. See all the different kinds of wuxia films out there and the spiffy costumes the heroes and heroines wear.)
> 
> Also did not discriminate between the different continents for the locations of the various major places in the FFVII games; I just mashed together places and habitats that I thought fit, okay. Don’t judge me. *hides*
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed the read! *keels over from pulling an all-nighter writing this in one go*


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